Crimson Return

by Daelynn Quinn

  Marcus and I never needed an “adjustment period.” We’ve lived together since the day we arrived and we’ve always gotten along for the most part. Yes, a few squabbles here and there, but nothing that really drove me crazy. I guess our schedules don’t allow us to spend enough time together to annoy each other.

  I think back to my secret conversation with Yoric and I feel confident now that I gave him some good advice. Maybe they should live together first, before marrying, to see if they are compatible.

  “You’ll be okay. You just need to make sure you guys spend some time apart.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. We kind of rushed things in the beginning. I’d always accompany him to work and we’d eat breakfast together. Lunch together. Train together, when I’m not with you. Dinner together. Not to mention the rest of the evening and night. This is really good for me Pollen, we should have girls night out more often.”

  I chuckle, “I’ll enjoy it more when I can actually drink!”

  “Not for eight more months, babe!” Timber says, tossing back the rest of her drink and throwing her hand in the air, signaling to the bartender for another one. He whips up that fruity concoction and lays it in front of her with a wink.

  “So who’s the best man gonna be?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. Nicron maybe? Or Jansen? Marcus hasn’t said. I was thinking about asking Lynx to be in the wedding party too, but I haven’t seen her lately. We’re meeting for dinner tomorrow night so I’ll tell her then.”

  “Anyone going to walk you down the aisle?” Timber asks, sipping through her straw.

  “I was thinking about asking General Granby. He’s so sweet and reminds me of my dad. I think he’d do it.”

  “That’s a great idea, Pollen. Hey, you should invite everybody, you know, the whole facility and have a huge wedding!”

  I cringe. I don’t even know half the people here yet. It would be really weird getting married in front of a crowd of strangers.

  “I don’t know. That might be a little over the top, don’t you think?”

  “Pollen. This is not only the first wedding since the virus, but the first happy event in general. People need an excuse to celebrate. Something positive, you know? This would be great for everybody.”

  People have been looking rather morose lately. Especially since we’re underground now. I decide to swirl the idea around in my head for a while.

  “I’ll discuss it with Marcus. And slow down!” I say as Timber whips back her head and slurps down her drink.

  * * *

  The food court is abuzz with commotion as usual. Once again, Lynx is running late for our dinner. We ought to just agree to meet twenty minutes later, so I don’t have to wait so long. But then, I might not be fortunate enough to find an empty table if I come later.

  I find myself daydreaming about the upcoming wedding. I found a gorgeous gown at the Ladies Boutique earlier today. That’s the shop that specializes in ladies formal wear, separate from the casual ladies wear shop. It’s an ivory strapless, form-fitting satin gown with ivory lace and bronze bead accents and a train that could sweep the dust off a six-lane highway. I won’t wear a traditional veil, but I haven’t decided on my hairpiece yet. Obviously Evie will be the flower girl. We found a cute, yellow empire dress for her. It’s a little too big, but Timber said she could tailor it. I don’t know if we’ll have a ring bearer. I suppose I could ask one of the boys from Evie’s class.

  I’ve become so wrapped up in my wedding plans that I nearly forget where I am or how long I’ve been waiting. What is taking Lynx so long? It’s common for her to be late, but I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour.

  The crowd in the food court is starting to disperse; yet I still can’t see Lynx anywhere. Should I be worried? Maybe I’ll just go to her office and see if she’s still there. We’ll just have to meet up another day this week. I’ve already eaten anyway.

  The aerospace engineering department is just below the main floor on the west side of the facility—the highest floor in the underground lair. It’s quite a trek to get there, but I need the exercise anyway. I’ve been getting way too lazy these past few weeks.

  As I pass by the glass windows that border the engineering department I get the strange feeling something is wrong. People are inside, working, but there’s a thick shroud of tension lingering in the air. I peer inside, but I don’t see Lynx. Perhaps she’s been tied up in a meeting.

  The receptionist is a sweet young man named Luke. He’s got one of those boyish faces that never seems to age, yet he’s a few years older than me. His blond hair hangs over his eyes, so that when he looks up at me, I almost miss the look of alarm behind them.

  “Hi Luke, is Lynx still around?”

  “Lynx?” he gulps.

  “Yes. She was supposed to meet me for dinner, but she didn’t show. I thought maybe she might be stuck in a meeting.”

  Luke remains silent, gawking at me. Something’s wrong. I hope she hasn’t been hurt or worse. My muscles tense at the thought and a storm begins to brew deep in my stomach.

  “Luke? Where’s Lynx?”

  Luke inhales deeply and looks down at some papers on his desk. “Pollen—” He pauses. “Lynx was arrested this afternoon. For conspiracy to commit treason against the COPS.”

  “No,” I whisper. Not Lynx, too. That can’t be. Someone must have framed her. And if they framed her, they could also come after me. Or Marcus. No this isn’t right. My hands begin to tremble.

  “No. No, she couldn’t. She wanted to get away from Crimson just as much as I did. There’s no way she could have done this.” First Glenn. Now Lynx. Who can I trust anymore?

  “Pollen, she confessed. Lynx was a spy for Crimson.”

  I gasp, but can’t seem to catch my breath. The room spins around me and the floor wavers from side to side. I try to grasp on to Luke’s desk, but the dizziness overcomes me and I collapse.

  * * *

  The faint, muffled sounds of talking men filter into the bleak white room where Lynx sits, cuffed to the very chair that held Glenn only a month ago. Granby let me in to see her as a personal favor, in the hope that I could get some information out of her. I doubt I’ll get much.

  Lynx can barely look at me. Her bloodshot eyes are puffy and her cheeks stained and sticky with tears. She looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. I’d almost feel sorry for her, if I hadn’t known her betrayal.

  “Why?” I ask, staring down at her. Just one simple word, the only reason I came to see her. At first she remains silent and I wonder if she’s taken a vow of silence, then she speaks.

  “I didn’t want to,” she mutters.

  “Why!” I say more forcefully and she jumps in her seat.

  “They threatened me.” Lynx raises her eyelids to look at me briefly then returns her gaze downward. “I was captured by the Crimson Enforcers after we escaped. I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t remember. They explained the mission to me and said that if I didn’t cooperate they would take me back to Crimson. I agreed because I wanted my freedom.”

  “So you got your freedom. You’re here. Why would you sabotage our efforts and relay the plans to Crimson? It’s not like they can just walk in here and take you back.”

  “I didn’t actually intend to carry out the plans until . . .” Her voice fades away.

  “Until what?” I kneel down to catch her gaze.

  “Until they tested the implant.”

  “Implant?”

  Lynx nods. “Before they set me free to join the COPS, they implanted a chip, just under the infinity fly.” I move in closer to get a better look at the tattoo on her temple. Just under the skin, below the hairline, is a small cylindrical lump I had never noticed before.

  “When they activate it, it sends out a pulse to the auriculo-temporal nerve, which causes severe pain and nerve damage. It also contains a one-way communicator, so they can relay instructions, and tracking device, so they always know my whereabouts.” I feel a twinge
of sorrow for Lynx. I honestly don’t know what I’d do in her situation. Perhaps I would have done the same.

  “So how did you get the plans to them?” I ask. It’s not like she can just hail down the postal service and send a package.

  “There’s a place out on the perimeter, a hole where a tree used to be before it rotted away, where I left the stolen plans and components. A Crimson agent was supposed to pick them up. That’s where I left them the first day when . . .” Lynx’s voice goes silent again, but I already know what she was going to say.

  “The day I was attacked,” I finish.

  “I’m so sorry, Pollen. I had no idea they would try and hurt anyone, I swear.” Tears stream down her face again. As angry as I am, I believe her. I know she didn’t intend any harm to come to me. But the fact that her espionage caused all of my problems from the last few weeks boils my blood. If it weren’t for her I never would have been trapped in that room with Glenn. Never would have gotten drunk and slept with him. Probably wouldn’t be pregnant. But deep down I wonder; if I weren’t pregnant, would I still be marrying Marcus?

  I shake the distracting thoughts away and focus my attention back on Lynx.

  “But . . . Glenn killed the guy that attacked me. So the plans must—”

  “There were two of them,” Lynx interrupts. “The plans made it back to Crimson safely.” She lowers her head again. The shame in her face does little to placate me.

  “So why did you do it again, destroy the shuttle?”

  “It was part of my assignment—to slow down the construction of the shuttle. So that they can reach A1D3 first and establish a stronghold there.”

  So the Trinity are building a shuttle too. That explains why they stole the plans. It wasn’t enough for them to destroy the planet we call home. Now they are going to abandon the mess they made.

  Chapter 17

  Keep your head up. Ears open. Focus Pollen.

  Darkness envelops me in a silent, open cocoon. If I were to drop a hair right now it would cause an echo to ring out through the corridors. You would think that I’d be used to the eerie silence by now having experienced it so many times, but one never really gets used to the deathly stillness when you grow up accustomed to background noise.

  Training Arena Two looks just as the Web did a few months ago when Marcus, Evie, and I escaped from Crimson. Dreary blackness lit only with the dim yellow emergency lights. It sends shivers into my bones when I remember the ominous clap of Sage’s footsteps and having to crawl to safety after I injured my ankle from the impact with the train. Fortunately it was a clean break—and it only took a few weeks to heal completely with the osteogenic injection they gave me. I still get shooting pains in my ankle and calf now and then, but nothing I can’t shake off.

  I lean against the wall, slowing and quieting my breath. Closing my eyes, I allow my other senses to open up. The air is still and comfortably chilly down here. It smells of new paint—they just finished renovating the floor a few weeks ago and the odor hasn’t dissipated yet. Without my eyesight, my ears are more attuned to the microscopic sounds. Yes, there it is. The faint swish of fabric sliding against its own friction.

  It’s difficult to anticipate where it the sound is coming from. Footsteps are inaudible here. We are wearing shoes with soles made from an organic material called Hemlex that makes virtually no sound despite its tightly gripping surface.

  I hear a whoosh behind me and open my eyes to catch an obscure shadow dart past. Holding my pistol in readiness I take a step. Stop. Another step. Stop. I squint my eyes, but still see nothing. A few steps later I am standing at an intersection. I look right then left, but still see nothing. I close my eyes once again to strengthen my hearing. I hear nothing when he grabs me from behind.

  “You’re mine,” he whispers delicately. His steaming breath tickles my ear. I holster my gun and press my body back against his.

  “After tomorrow you’ll be stuck with me forever,” I say, twisting my ring around my finger.

  In one fell swoop, Marcus twists me and drives me down to the floor on my back, laying atop me and resting his forearm beneath my head. He gently caresses the wisps of hair from my eyes.

  “That’s what I’ve wanted since the day I met you,” Marcus says, playing with my long braided hair. He leans forward until his lips are a hair away from mine and I can taste his breath. Then he hovers. I expect him to kiss me at any moment, but to my surprise, he doesn’t. Why?

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I was just remembering the last time we were in a dark tunnel together. If I remember correctly, we had an audience.”

  “Evie.”

  “Mm hmm. But now we’re all alone,” Marcus says, poking his fingers into my braid to unravel it.

  “Hmm. I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I say. Marcus keeps unraveling my braid but raises his eyebrows.

  “Why?”

  “You know they’ve got security cameras all over the facility. And I know they’ve been using them recently. I’m sure they have some in here too, we just can’t see them because it’s so dark.”

  Marcus pauses and lifts his head, staring down into the corridor.

  “Screw it,” he says and plants his lips on mine, diving his tongue between my lips and entwining it with mine. Marcus’s fingers comb through my hair and mine climb the rocky terrain of his triceps up to his back and into his shaggy auburn locks. His kisses leave my lips and trail along my jaw line, gently nipping my skin as I raise my chin higher. He continues down my neck, his hands tracing the figure of my body.

  Marcus tugs at the hem of my shirt when I stop him. The idea of being watched makes me nervous enough as it is, I don’t want to be caught making the first official COPS porno.

  “Stop,” I say. Marcus chuckles.

  “Sorry, I guess I got carried away.” He falls over next to me and we lie facing each other inches apart. My finger traces a line from his collarbone down to his belly button.

  “I can’t wait to be Mrs. Marcus Stygma,” I whisper.

  Marcus glides his hand over my belly, just under my shirt. “And I can’t wait to be a daddy.”

  I close my eyes, disheartened. Is this the only reason he’s marrying me? This may not even be your baby, Marcus. But I can’t tell you that.

  “Marcus, would you have asked me if I wasn’t, you know, pregnant?”

  Marcus’s face softens as he brushes his knuckles across my cheeks. His eyebrows draw together.

  “Is that what you think? That I proposed because you’re knocked up?” I remain silent, awaiting his answer.

  “Pollen, I told you. I wanted to marry you from the moment I met you. I just didn’t want to scare you off by moving too fast. If I thought you’d say yes, I’d have asked you ages ago.” I wish he had.

  I lean over and chastely kiss him on the corner of his lips, brushing mine against his bristly goatee. Then I fall to my back, holding my left hand in the air and gaze up at the ring. The diamond reflects tiny glints of yellow sparkles from the dim lights.

  “That was my mother’s,” Marcus says. “And her mother’s. It’s been in the family for generations. I’d been carrying it around with me ever since she passed away. You have no idea how many times I’ve been tempted to give it to you.” I smile, my heart full of a haunting concoction of love and regret.

  “I love you, Marcus.”

  “I love you, Pollen. More than you’ll ever know.”

  * * *

  “You’re dressed already?” I yawn, twisting into the disheveled blankets on our bed. Marcus is already draped in his tuxedo. His crisp white button-up shirt is partially open at the top, revealing the cleavage of his pectoralis major muscles coated a fine net of auburn hair. Evie’s bed lies empty.

  “I didn’t want to be late to my wedding. You know, I’m marrying my soulmate today.” He smiles and winks.

  “Where’s Evie?” I ask.

  “Timber came by early to get her so they can get ready together. She wante
d to let you sleep in.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost 9:30. Why?”

  I jump out of bed and slip into a simple yellow sundress. I had made an appointment at the medical clinic this morning. It’s my wedding gift to Marcus. I remember when Drake got married, he and Ivy were supposed to give each other gifts, but he had such a hard time choosing one for her. I helped him pick out a gold bracelet engraved with the words “My heart is yours.”

  I wasn’t sure what to get Marcus. Options are limited these days and he’s not really into material possessions. I thought of some kind of jewelry, but in his line of work he can’t really wear it anyway. I wanted to get him something really special, something unforgettable.

  “I have to give you your wedding gift,” I say as Marcus squints at me enigmatically.

  “Now?” he asks, as if he’s in a rush to leave.

  I slip on some sandals and grab his hand, heading for the door. “Leave your tie here. You can finish dressing when we get back.”

  * * *

  A short, stout nurse named Orla leads us to the ochre-painted examination room. Her brown, beady eyes narrow suspiciously at Marcus under her jet-black bangs as she hands me my paper blanket.

  “He’s the baby’s father,” I say. “I want him here.” She nods, but frowns as she leaves the room.

  Marcus eyes the paper blanket curiously.

  “What’s that for?” he asks.

  “For modesty,” I say, reaching under my dress to remove my panties. Marcus grabs my hand.

  “Allow me,” he says. A sly one-sided smirk stretches into his cheek and I pull up the skirt of my dress.

  Marcus kneels down and his warm, rough hands cup each side of my hips. He sweetly kisses my belly button and a tingling electric shock dissipates into my limbs. Slowly, he slides my panties down and pulls behind each of my knees to remove them from my ankles.